


Lessons in Art History (and other complicated emotions)

by daffodil_blue



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Italy, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, alternative universe, and to better times (they'll come again), and to italy, art student david, boy squad holiday, lots of references to the renaissance lol, this fic is basically a love letter to art in all its forms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24091867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daffodil_blue/pseuds/daffodil_blue
Summary: A love story set in Italian sunshine, between an art student diligently visiting the galleries of Rome, and a disillusioned tourist who, really, had only set foot in the gallery on Jonas' insistence...(written for the prompt "Anything where David frequents an art museum (maybe he works there?) and Matteo keeps visiting even though he knows nothing about art.")
Relationships: Matteo Florenzi/David (Druck)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 82
Collections: Druck Open Discord 1st Anniversary Exchange





	1. Nascita di Venere (The Birth of Venus)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [garconrouge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/garconrouge/gifts).



> When I was brainstorming ideas for this prompt this vague memory came back to me of wandering around the Borghese gallery in Rome and seeing this guy sitting on the floor sketching one of the statues on display, and from there I basically knew exactly what I wanted to write. 
> 
> I could not resist, because I'm a massive nerd, naming my chapters after famous Italian Renaissance artworks. At the end of each chapter I will link these artworks and any artworks and places I reference in the universe of the fic, to give you a visual if you want it. I got way too excited researching this fic. 
> 
> This is for the eternally wonderful Beckett. I hope you enjoy!! And a million thanks for organising this exchange and for giving me such a fantastic prompt. Apologies that I have so far only finished the first chapter, but the rest of this fic has been planned and a second chapter is well on the way to completion. Thanks to the world of academia I currently have limited time, but once my exams at the end of the month are over I am looking forward to giving this fic my full attention. 
> 
> I might have got a little (a lot) carried away with this fic, but I hope it's mostly what you were looking for, and I hope that everyone enjoys reading it as much as I have loved writing it! <3

Matteo really hoped Jonas was going to enjoy this day. He hoped _he_ was going to enjoy this day, though he somehow doubted it - he felt the beginnings of a headache coming on, and he was sure an art gallery would mean lots of walking around identical rooms and not much sinking into squishy sofas, and the bus ride had already been too busy and too long and not too comfortable. 

It was their second day in Rome, chosen as the destination for a joyous week away mostly, in Carlos' words, so they could _finally get some decent pizza_. Jonas was determined that, even if they were largely here for food and chilling and alcohol, they should try to engage in the culture at least a little. Matteo knew that the others were genuinely loving Rome, and he could admit that it was an incredible city. He just had some _issues_ with it. 

The gallery was inside a beautiful white villa. The sunshine outside was bright, casting the gardens to the front in an eager kind of vibrancy. There were a fair number of people on the steps waiting to enter, but not as many as Matteo had feared. They joined the queue. As it trickled down he felt himself subconsciously tuning into the babble of Italian in front of him, not that there was anything especially interesting being said. 

He decided he probably didn’t have to worry about whether Abdi and Carlos would enjoy themselves. Despite their initial protests at Jonas’ idea of “culture”, the thought of disturbing the peace of an art gallery now seemed to appeal to them. As soon as they'd shown their tickets and entered they did an approving sweep of the room, milking the pretence of reading every info card and making "astute observations". 

Matteo felt decidedly less at home. It wasn't that he hated art - he could appreciate that it was beautiful. But it all felt so far detached from any reality of life, especially in this setting: grand rooms, cherubs waving from the ceiling in pale blues and pinks, placards and ropes and shiny veneer. Call him uncultured, but he felt like the average graffitied Berlin wall said a lot more about life than any of these saintly oil paintings. 

And it was _big_. A tricky maze of a building, walls mirrored onto more walls, imperceptible corners and a sickly amount of gold. Oil painting after oil painting, Renaissance sculpture after Renaissance sculpture. He followed the others from one room to the next, keeping that mandatory art gallery trudging pace but making little effort to copy the amazed glances of everyone around him. 

The statues were cool, he decided, but not enough to really hold his attention in this disconcertingly shiny bauble of a building.

After half an hour of wandering he thought he'd finally come to the end, when he discovered there was a whole upper floor still to go. Carlos was already on the stairs ahead of him, and Jonas was looking more and more thrilled with each new statue he passed, so Matteo decided he would grin and bear it. 

The upper floor was emptier, both of people and of statues - he could breathe a bit easier here. He wandered aimlessly, looking at the artworks on the wall but only half noticing them. They were nice. He was tired. 

He turned the corner into a smaller room, Jonas at his heels, and that was when he saw _him_. 

There was a guy perched on the floor, cross legged and leaning his weight back on his feet. On the ground in front of him was a piece of A3 paper. He was sketching, casting glances at the statue in front of him - a greek hero reaching out into empty air. 

The boy reached up with his pencil to tap at his forehead absentmindedly. In a room of glimmering frescoes and graceful marble, suddenly this boy was all Matteo could see.

Matteo's thoughts hadn't really extended any further than _cute boy - stare??_ when, with his typical goodnatured eagerness, Jonas arrived at the boy's shoulder with an enthusiastic, "Bellissimo!"

"Grazie," the boy said with a smile and an only marginally better Italian accent. Jonas looked very pleased with himself. 

"Ey, Luigi, come and translate for us," he called in German. The boy's head properly perked up. 

"You're German?" he said. 

Jonas smiled even wider. "Dude! What are the chances?" 

Considering the large group of German tourists they'd passed in the last room, and the general swarm of international visitors in this building, Matteo didn't think the chances were really that low. He came over to join them, though. "That's really good," he said quietly, gesturing to the drawing. 

"Thank you." 

"Are you an artist?" Jonas asked. 

"Art _student_. I'm here in the city for a trip. Visiting galleries." 

Maybe the boy noticed something on Matteo's face that was seemingly invisible to his friends, for he said, a knowing tone in his voice, "Do you visit many galleries, or are you just here because it's Rome and that's what you're meant to do?" 

Matteo smirked a little, catching the boy's eye. Jonas put on an exaggerated air of offense. "We are cultured gentlemen, I'll have you know." 

The boy turned back to his sketch. "Either way, this gallery is pretty impressive." 

Matteo frowned a little. "I do like art…" he began.

The boy glanced up. "But?" 

Matteo shrugged. "I'm not sure this kind of art is quite for me." 

The boy paused for a moment, curving his pencil back and forth around a particularly tricky point, then he sat back on his heels again. "I can understand that. I'm going to the main gallery of modern art tomorrow. Maybe that would be more your style, if you have a spare day sometime." 

"Mmm, perhaps," Jonas said, then added, with a dramatic sigh and the same exaggerated voice from before, "Though I fear I am the only one of our party with much desire for any more galleries." 

Matteo had already decided that this would be his last gallery of the trip, but somehow when a cute stranger was recommending it the idea became a lot more inviting.

"Are you on holiday?" the boy asked.

"Yep," Jonas said. "Me, him, and two other losers. Not sure where they've gone." 

"Nice." 

"Yeah." He smiled. "Maybe we should actually go and look for Abdi and Carlos though. They might have already gone back downstairs."

Matteo was kind of reluctant to say goodbye, but he nodded. 

"It was really nice to meet you," Jonas said. "Good luck with your art." 

"Thank you! Goodbye." 

"Bye," Matteo said. He caught the boy's eye again, and they smiled at each other. Matteo felt something quiet and insistent tug in his gut, but then Jonas moved away, heading for the door to the next room, and as Matteo turned to follow the moment crumbled into dust.

* * *

Matteo got out of bed the next morning to find Abdi sprawled out over the airbnb sofa, eating a bowl of cereal. 

"Morning," he called out as Matteo went into the kitchenette to make himself some toast. 

By the time he was back, Jonas and Carlos had joined Abdi in their little living area. "What's the plan for today?" Carlos asked. 

"I was thinking of visiting another art gallery," Jonas said, and Matteo was just a little too early-morning-woozy to realise Jonas had been joking, because the next words out of his mouth were "Can we?" 

Abdi and Carlos looked at him like he'd grown another head. So did Jonas. "I thought you hated art," Abdi said. "You looked bored out of your mind yesterday." 

"I don't hate art! There was just too much gold in that place. I was thinking it might be nice to see something more modern." He paused, trying to sound casual. "That guy we spoke to said there's a modern art gallery." 

"What guy?" 

"You weren't there," Jonas said. "There was some German guy drawing on the floor. It was peak art student."

Carlos gave an approving nod. “Nice.” 

“No more art museums for me, though,” Abdi added. “One is enough.” 

“Agreed.” 

Matteo felt his chance of ever seeing Cute Art Guy again slipping away, but Jonas was scrolling on his phone. “If you want to see the National Gallery of Modern Art, there’s various other things nearby. Gardens and bars and a zoo. We could always split up if you two don’t want to do the gallery.”

Carlos looked between Jonas and Matteo, who tried to find a balance in his expression between hopefully pleading and believably nonchalant. Then Carlos shrugged. "Sure, man!" 

And so it was decided. 

***

Matteo was not a fan of the Roman metro. 

By all accounts it was pretty standard for a subway system. He didn't tend to use the U-Bahn either if he could help it, but there was not much difference between that and the metro in Rome, other than the lack of obstinately yellow trains. 

There were memories, though, that he couldn't quite manage to trample down whenever he entered a metro station. A childhood trip back to Rome; stumbling on the escalator, the weight of the gloom, too much metal. How it felt when the train started and he was totally unmoored, clinging to his papa's leg and wanting desperately for someone to reach down and grab him back, keep him safe. 

He was no longer scared of the metro, but he thought anyone rational would be scared of that feeling, being unmoored. 

They had to go through three different stations to reach the gallery, which was plenty of time for Matteo's brain to finally catch up with itself and demand what the hell he thought he was doing. 

He was quite painfully aware that the chances of getting to the gallery at the same time as the boy were slim. It was probably a huge place - a _national gallery_ \- so there was no way he would find the guy. And he also didn't _want_ to find the guy - he wasn't trying to be creepy or a stalker, he wasn't trying to _search_ for him. He'd just thought it would be nice to have a chance to see him again, if he was there. 

His brain was bleating at him: why? Their conversation had lasted no more than two minutes. He didn't even know the guy's name. But he'd been so good-looking - not just cute but intriguingly _handsome_ , soft dark eyes and a frown as he corrected a line on his sketch, and a lovely, lovely smile. And he knew it sounded silly, but Matteo had felt drawn to his quiet presence. He wanted to be the kind of person who could look at a statue and find meaning in it. He wanted to be the kind of person who looked at the _world_ and found sense and beauty in it. He was not that person at all, but maybe he could learn. 

"Next stop," Jonas said. 

Matteo thanked god. He'd had enough of the insidious roar of the metro, and the way he had to cling to his rail. 

It was a relief to reach dry land. 

*** 

Matteo quickly discovered that modern art did not mean exactly what he'd thought it meant. The building itself was very grand: white pillars, flags, intricately carved stone. The leaflet Jonas picked up at the reception explained that it contained pieces from the late 19th century as well as the 20th century. He was surprised, but not disappointed, because really, what did he know about art? 

One of the only things he did know about art was a name printed right on the front of the leaflet: Van Gogh. His mother _loved_ Van Gogh.

"Hey," he muttered to Jonas, gesturing at the leaflet. "Can we see this bit?" 

"Dude! Van Gogh! And Monet!" Jonas said excitedly. Matteo was sure that despite his enthusiasm, Jonas really only knew about as much about art as he did. There's a certain excitement in finding a familiar name in a place where you're a bit lost but trying not to be. 

They set off around the ground floor. Despite the grand building, this gallery felt somehow very different to the last one. The art was more abstract, for sure, and decidedly less religious. His basic instinct was that these works were more baffling and more unsettling, although there had been a good amount of gruesome subject matter in the older art too. Maybe amongst the saints and statues and perfect portraits were stories as unsettling and pained as the sombre twists of these modern shapes. He was sure the sketching boy would probably know. 

He preferred this gallery to the last one - the walls were pleasantly white with significantly less suffocating gold - but he still felt utterly lost. It was not a terrible way to spend a late morning, but he was beginning to feel a bit silly for having paid entry to this place mostly - though he struggled to admit it to himself - for the very slim chance of bumping into a stranger again.

"Matteo! Look!" 

A small crowd was gathered around one part of the wall. Jonas pulled him towards the throng. A gap opened in front of them, and he was faced with a smallish square of watercolour lilies. Even he had enough art knowledge to realise the significance of the name on the plaque beside it: Monet. The painting was really beautiful - the sort of art you didn't need to know much about to feel a connection with.

"Wow. That's awesome."

Another sudden flash of memory: his grandparents' kitchen and the tin his grandma kept on the side full of biscuits - a metal tin with Monet's lilies dancing over the lid. When they still went to Italy for Christmas his mama would bake lebkuchen for them in his grandparents' kitchen, until the biscuit tin was full and the air was a cloud of sugar and chocolate. 

He lingered in front of the painting, long after Jonas had already moved away. 

*** 

Eventually he and Jonas got far enough away from each other that they were wandering alone, though he still kept one eye on Jonas at the other end of each long gallery they entered. 

He knew it was ridiculous to hope that somehow when he reached the Van Gogh works the cute art student would magically appear - he could be anywhere, if he was even here at all. Still, when Matteo entered the next room and saw another little crowd gathered, he did a preemptive sweep of the room before approaching. The boy was still nowhere to be seen, and Matteo tried not to feel too disappointed. 

He had to wait to get a proper view of the piece that everyone was gathering in front of, but eventually he caught sight of it. He immediately recognised the swirls of the brush strokes. This painting was just a guy in a hat - it sort of looked a little like Jonas, if Jonas had a beard - but something about it was so instantly captivating. He imagined what it would be like to have such talent that you could connect to millions of hearts a hundred years later, just by painting a man in a hat. 

He knew Van Gogh had had a tragic life, though he didn't really know why. There was one time his mom had decided to watch an old biographical film about him, and Matteo hadn't really paid much attention, playing on his Nintendo on the other side of the room, but then his mom had started to cry into the sofa cushion, and then her crying had turned into sobbing, and then it had all got chaotic and painful and he stopped that memory there. 

The next day his mom had ordered a bunch of different Van Gogh prints on Amazon. His dad had been annoyed, but his mother loved them. She put up the sunflowers on the shelf next to the TV, and every so often he would sit down next to her on the sofa and she would talk about how beautiful they were. 

"Hey."

Matteo jumped out of his skin. It was disconcerting to be lost in his mother's German voice and suddenly hear a different German voice right next to him. 

He had reached the Van Gogh works, and the cute art student had magically appeared beside him. He couldn't make this shit up. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the guy said. "I just recognised you from yesterday." 

Matteo wasn't sure what to start with, so somehow the first thing his brain settled on was "I promise I'm not stalking you." 

The guy raised his eyebrows. The small crowd around them seemed to fall away. The boy made no comment on Matteo's awkward reassurance. "You like Van Gogh, then?" he asked instead. 

"Yeah. I think everyone does though." 

"Not necessarily." 

Matteo frowned. "You don't?" 

"I love Van Gogh."

"Oh." 

The guy must have seen something in Matteo's face, because he added, "I think there's a tendency in the art world to dismiss the possibility of a really famous artist ever being your personal favourite. But that's rubbish. Things don't become less personally important just because they're also important to other people." 

"I really don't know anything about art." 

"Then you're in the perfect place to learn."

The guy smiled, and the world fell still and hovered perfectly in place as Matteo smiled back, briefly but softly. "What's your name?" he asked. 

"David. And yours?"

"Matteo."

"It's nice to meet you, Matteo." 

David moved away, and Matteo hesitated, feeling that the conversation had finished and that maybe he shouldn't follow this guy if he really didn't want him to think he was a stalker. But David had only gone a few metres when he turned and backtracked, smiling a little when he saw Matteo still watching him. 

"Would you like a little lesson in art history, Matteo?" David said. 

There was a kind sort of challenge in David's eyes. "Okay," he replied. 

*** 

He followed David through the next few rooms, keeping a slow pace but not lingering too long at any one piece. Matteo found himself looking at David more than he looked at the art itself - he was entranced by the careful, meaningful way the other boy looked around him. They didn't speak much, beyond occasional comments about pieces they liked, intriguing colours, random thoughts. 

“This is interesting,” Matteo said, gesturing to a 3D piece, tableware and memorabilia arranged carefully and fixed to a board. He felt like anyone could probably make the thing itself so long as they had superglue and access to a junk shop. But he liked it. Maybe it was just because he loved _things_ \- far more than abstract concepts and painted bodies, Matteo liked _things_ that could be held and collected and kept. 

David hummed in agreement. Matteo had no idea where Jonas was. They both seemed to have realised that they were not walking around together because David was actually going to teach him about art. They were just walking around together.

Eventually David stopped in front of a painting on the first floor. "This is the piece I really wanted to find today," he said. 

It was a strange piece - two figures, their forms built up out of villas and bridges and Roman columns, contorted into the armchairs they were perched upon. Matteo liked the artist's style, sort of soft and rounded. Something about it made him feel uncomfortable, though - the faceless figures, the way they were bound beneath the weight of shapes and how tangled they were - he couldn't really tell where one ended and the other began. He stepped closer to read the plaque beside it: _Giorgio di Chirico, 'Gli archeologi'_.

"Why this?" Matteo asked. 

"One of my professors talked about these paintings in class a while back. The artist made loads of them. I just find them interesting. The way there's all these outside shapes and spaces pressing down on the inside space." 

"It's kind of unsettling. Like uncomfortable." 

"Mmm. I agree."

Matteo liked it, but he also sort of didn't. 

David gazed at the painting for a little while longer, and then they moved on. 

*** 

After another twenty minutes or so, above the squeak of a polished floor and many heavy footsteps, Matteo heard his phone buzz in his pocket. 

**Jonas:** _hey Luigi, you good? I don't know where you are but we should probably head out and meet up with the others. Really sorry for leaving you behind, I didn't realise how ahead of you I'd got_ 😕

Matteo frowned at the text, but he knew it was time to leave. "Hey, David," he said quietly. "I have to go."

David stopped. "Oh, okay, no worries." 

"Thank you for the art lesson." 

David hesitated, then said, "Tomorrow I'll be visiting the Palazzo Altemps. Drawing some more statues. Just in case you wanted another one." 

A slow smile spread across Matteo's face, then they both looked away a little uncomfortably. 

"I should probably meet Jonas at the entrance," Matteo said as he typed the same message into his phone. 

"I can walk with you there if you want." 

"It's okay," Matteo said. "I think I can find my way." 

"Okay." 

"What will you do?" 

"I'll stay here for a while more. I need to find some time for lunch somewhere though." 

Matteo hesitated a moment more. 

"I hope you have a nice day," he finally said. 

"You too. Goodbye, Matteo." 

He smiled. "Goodbye." 

When, after seven minutes of wandering and several phone calls, Matteo finally found Jonas, he still had the lingering remnants of a smile on his face. 

"Had a nice time? See something you liked?" Jonas asked. 

Matteo nodded. "Yeah. I did." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've never been to the Galleria Borghese (essentially what I was describing in the first section of this chapter), [this](https://images.app.goo.gl/NfTJjfb9w4RkvCdr6) is the general idea. It's definitely worth a visit if you're ever in Rome - even if you don't think you're an art nerd (I didn't at the time) it should be more than enough to convert you, unless you're Matteo I suppose. (And [here it is from the outside](https://images.app.goo.gl/yLD4TQbBK3UrHR949) \- it's a really stunning place, with loads of lovely gardens beyond.)
> 
> I've never visited the [Galleria Nazionale](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galleria_Nazionale_d%27Arte_Moderna) (aka the National Gallery of Modern and Contemporary Art aka the second of our art museums in this chapter) but boy do I want to after researching for this fic. All the artworks and artists I mentioned are really there! Here's Van Gogh's ["The Gardener"/"Portrait of a Young Peasant"](https://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=https://uploads2.wikiart.org/images/vincent-van-gogh/portrait-of-a-young-peasant-1889.jpg!Large.jpg&imgrefurl=https://www.wikiart.org/en/vincent-van-gogh/portrait-of-a-young-peasant-1889&tbnid=l39sKE-US9j-GM&vet=1&docid=hTZVzuP5_FDOUM&w=491&h=600&q=Portrait+of+a+Young+Peasant&hl=en-GB&source=sh/x/im) (there are a couple of names swirling around). The ["things stuck to a board" piece](https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/tableau-pi%C3%A8ge/LAEk-Q6ObHmeEw?hl=en-GB) is from Daniel Spoerri's "Tableau piège" collection. And [here](https://artsandculture.google.com/asset/gli-archeologi/WwEIARGn3JhvhA?hl=en-GB) is one of many versions of "Gli Archeologi" by Giorgio di Chirico. 
> 
> The chapter title refers to the infamous (and beautiful) painting ["The Birth of Venus"](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Birth_of_Venus) by Botticelli. I imagine it's fairly evident to anyone with the slightest passing knowledge of classics or art why I've chosen this, but in case you're unaware, Venus is the goddess of love, beauty, sex and desire. I'll say no more.


	2. Vocazione di San Matteo (The Calling of Saint Matthew)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I can manage to time this right this second chapter should hopefully appear about 5 minutes after the authors of all the amazing [dod gift exchange fics](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/dodanniversaryexchange/works) (and art!) are revealed (this was not a specific plan of mine but I found out earlier when the author reveal was going to be and I always aspire to have as much dramatic flair as possible). The observant among you may notice that I asked for (and was gifted) a fic about Italy (which was incredible and adorable and as I write this I don't yet know who the author was but I LOVE THEM) and I also WROTE a fic about Italy despite this not featuring anywhere in the prompt I received. Conclusion: I like Italy a lot. (For anyone who isn't in the dod and has no idea who I am, hi, I'm Cate, and I am a full time Italian student, so maybe that will explain some things). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this second chapter!

Matteo knew, without needing to try, that he would not be able to convince his closest friends that he - he, Matteo Florenzi, meme lord, gamer and slumping-in-bed lover - had a genuine newfound passion for Renaissance artwork and thus wanted to visit a third art gallery in a row. Not without prompting a good deal of suspicion and prying questions that he really had no answer for. Which is why, the next morning as the others prepared to head out, he quite loudly had a headache. 

Abdi looked heartbroken. "No, diggi, you're going to miss out on a whole day of the trip if you don't come with us now! This sucks." 

Jonas gave him a keen look, then squeezed his shoulder with a smile. "Take it easy then Luigi. Ring if you need us." 

With the others gone, Matteo spent a while wandering the airbnb. He loved his friends more than anything, but it was nice to have a bit of time to himself. The airbnb was a typical apartment just outside the centre of the city, nothing much, just two rooms, a tiny communal area, a bathroom and the kitchenette. It was nice though, nearer to the "home" end of the airbnb scale than the "hotel" end, with colourful striped duvets and a green sofa. There was a balcony off the kitchen, so he went out for a smoke. He may not have had a real headache, but his head was still whirring. 

He scrolled through his phone to his notes app and found the address copied there from one of his mom's texts. His dad's apartment was probably a bit like this one. He closed the app. 

Instead he opened google maps, and looked up Palazzo Altemps. He grabbed his wallet and the keys to the apartment, and went out to find the bus stop. 

Everything was hot and bright and blue outside. He'd had to admit defeat since arriving and leave his beloved thick jackets in his suitcase. His phone predicted a seven minute wait until the next bus, so he leaned against a post and took in the sun like a sleepy lizard. He didn't have a ticket, but his luck had so far always lasted with buses in Rome. 

The bus, when it arrived, was even more stiflingly hot than the outside air. He leaned against a pole and inspected the dirt and greyness and coarse plastic interior. Rome’s cobbled streets made for a shaky ride, but he liked that. Matteo felt in tune with the physical feeling of the bus ride in a way he couldn’t quite manage with the same feeling underground. And it was nice to see the sights, even if by now they weren’t new to him. Some things never grew old, which was kind of the point of Rome. 

He got off the bus on a main street next to the river, then followed his phone’s directions to the museum. It was a beautiful part of the city, old and delicate and very typically Italian. He found the entrance and paid the few euros it cost to go inside. 

This wasn’t really an art gallery but a palace, with a collection of Roman sculptures and Renaissance art. Matteo stepped into the main courtyard, surrounded by arches and carved stone and architectural beauty, and immediately spotted a figure in black sweatpants standing before a stone bust on the other side. His insides felt like they were back on the bus, being shaken around and rocked from side to side. He stepped out into the sunlight and the open sky and walked over. 

“Ciao,” he said. 

David didn’t even jump, just turned around, smiling. “Hey.” 

“Hey. Doing okay?” 

“Yeah. You?” 

“Yep.” 

“Good. It’s nice to see you here.” 

Matteo looked around the courtyard. “I might go explore.” 

David nodded. “I’m going to have a go at drawing one of these busts, and then I might sit and sketch the building. You’re welcome to come and sit with me anytime, if you want.” 

He left David there and wandered through the arches for a while. Despite the similar abundance of statues he felt more at home here than he had in the Galleria Borghese, perhaps because there was hardly anyone else around, and perhaps because of the fresh air and the blue sky peeping into the palace from the open courtyard roof. There were signs to further exhibits inside, but he wasn’t too bothered about seeing them. He took his time just wandering the outside of the palace. Some of the statues were broken, and others were perfectly preserved. Some male, some female, some he couldn’t tell. All of them were beautiful, even if he didn’t always know the words to explain why. 

Eventually his circuit around the palace took him back to David, who had set up his post with his sketchbook and pencils, but looked up when Matteo approached. “Okay?” 

Matteo nodded. “I like it here.” 

“I’m sorry, there’s not much to do here except draw statues, so maybe I shouldn’t have suggested you come.”

“It’s cool. It’s nice.”

“I’ve actually nearly finished this sketch, so I was thinking of going somewhere else soon.”

Matteo sat down beside David. “Could I have a look?” 

“Sure.” David turned the page with the drawing towards him. 

Matteo loved his style. It was messy, not fussy, but it still captured so much. He wished he had that sort of skill. "You're really good." 

"Thank you." 

Matteo wished he'd thought to bring his headphones, but there was nothing to do about that now. He took out his phone. "Is it sacrilegious if I sit and play Temple Run in a Renaissance palace?" 

"Definitely not." 

The two boys sat on the warm stone floor and were still except for their gentle human movements, drawing, playing, breathing. Matteo's knee bounced, but he was relaxed. There was so much he still didn't know about David, they were still strangers really, but it felt like they had infinite time to find that out, even though he knew that wasn't true. 

After a while, though, David reached out into the gap of unknowingness and pulled on a thread between them. 

“Matteo?” 

He hummed to say he was listening.

“This might be a stupid question, but are you actually Italian?” 

“Half. So yeah, I guess. I’ve always lived in Berlin though.” 

David smiled widely. “I live in Berlin too."

An older couple stepped out into the bright light on the other side of the courtyard. An insect was buzzing somewhere behind them. Matteo grinned. It was a good moment, all things considered. 

“Matteo, have you ever heard of Caravaggio?” 

"Huh? No."

“He’s one of my favourite Italian painters. I know a lot of old religious art seems like it’s just cherubs and gold and goddesses in silk robes, but not Caravaggio. His work is very dark and real and human," David said. "There’s a church near here that has some of his originals, which I would love to see. And it’s kind of perfect, because they’re all depicting Saint Matteo.” 

David looked a little shy. Damn. 

“Wow,” Matteo said. “Can’t believe I’m a Renaissance muse.” 

David laughed. “You don’t have to come. But if you want to, I was thinking now would be the perfect time.” 

“Sure,” Matteo said. He took out his phone. “What’s the name of the church?” 

“San Luigi something.” 

Matteo stared at him and started giggling. “You’re joking.” 

David frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re telling me there’s famous artwork of San Matteo in a church called San Luigi? Jonas is going to lose it. He’s been calling me Luigi since we were 8 years old. Like from Mariokart. It’s my nickname.” 

"Oh," David laughed. "What do you want to be then, San Luigi or San Matteo?" 

"Hmm. San Matteo I think. Luigi just makes me think of Jonas." 

"Jonas is your friend, right? Was he Mario?" 

Matteo shrugged. "Actually, I don't think we ever got to that point. The joke was mostly that I'm Italian, really." 

Matteo got up google maps again. He didn't even have to search - the church of San Luigi dei Francesi came up immediately labelled only a few streets away. "Well then. _Andiamo_." 

* * *

It was nice to walk the streets of Rome with David. Tourists, cafes, sunlight, shadows, footsteps: Matteo felt in tune with all of it, and very at home. 

It took five minutes to reach the church from Palazzo Altemps. The outside of the church was very beautiful, but neither of them were prepared for how incredible the interior would be. Matteo had spent a good amount of time in churches in his life, but few like this. Marble columns accompanied them from one end of the church to the other, each bending at the top into arches plated with gold. There was gold everywhere. There was art everywhere. Matteo took photos on his phone to send to his mom. 

David was as impressed as he was. They walked in slow silence, turning every so often to get photos. There were quite a lot of tourists inside, particularly gathered before one alcove to the side. 

“That must be where the Caravaggio works are,” David murmured. 

They had to wait for the people in front of them to move away before they could get a proper good view. There was a different painting on each of the three walls of the alcove, but they were clearly by the same artist. Now he saw them, Matteo wasn't surprised that David was a fan. The colours were somehow very dark and very vivid at the same time: warm yellow and red tones on dark black backgrounds. Emotive and thoughtful and moody in a way that was also very beautiful. David, with his all-black outfits and his soulful eyes and his overflowing sketchbook and his presence that was at once mysterious and warm, had a certain beauty of his own a bit like that, Matteo thought. 

He did a mix of shuffling and craning his neck so he could see over the head of the girl beside him and look at the names of the works on the info card at the side. _Vocazione di San Matteo. Martirio di San Matteo._ Then in the centre, _San Matteo e angelo._

“I wish I could speak Italian,” David whispered. 

“The first one is about San Matteo deciding to become a disciple,” Matteo said, squinting at the description under each title. “The one in the middle is him with an angel. Then the _Martirio_ is about him dying as a martyr, so that’s fun. I’m a bit sad my namesake had to get assassinated.” 

“Are you actually named for the bible figure?” 

Matteo shrugged. “I think so. My mama is super religious and my dad is Italian, so it makes sense.” 

“It’s a lovely name.” 

“Thank you.” 

Matteo looked back at the paintings. He really liked them, even if they were very bible-y. 

“What about you?” he asked. “Is David the biblical David?” 

David looked a bit caught out by the question. He shook his head. “No.”

There were more tourists walking up to jostle behind the rope separating them from the paintings, so Matteo gave them one last glance and then moved back, heading towards the altar. 

He stood for a while at the end of the church, looking at the altar and the beautiful painting that stretched up the wall behind it. It was full of figures, human and angel, but right at the top, drawing everyone's gaze, was the Virgin Mary. She was glorious, shining brightly and commanding attention without even trying. It had been a long time since he'd been inside a church. 

He took out his phone again for another picture for his mom. This was a Catholic church rather than a Protestant one, but he still thought she'd like it. He looked down at the photo on his screen, trying to work out whether it would be a good idea to send her some or not. Then, before he could overthink it too much, he opened his text messages and sent her three, a wide shot of the interior, the trio of Caravaggios, and the altar. 

He put his phone back into his pocket and closed his eyes.

By the time he opened them again, David was beside him. Neither of them spoke. There was a peaceful quiet, then Matteo turned to go, and David followed. 

When he reached the door Matteo turned once more. "Thank you for bringing me here," he said. 

"Thank you for coming with me," David said. 

They walked down the steps and into the sunshine. 

"Do you want to find some food?" Matteo asked. "I'm starving." 

David looked awkward. "I actually brought some with me in my bag so that I wouldn't have to eat at a restaurant. Not that I don't love eating out in Italy, but it's an expensive way to eat if you're eating alone." 

"Are you actually here alone? You're not staying with anyone? It must be weird to just be on holiday by yourself." 

David shook his head. "Oh no, I'm actually staying with two girls from my uni. They're doing different things to me though, they're more into theatre and music. We're all technically here for our studies." 

Matteo nodded. 

"Anyway," David said. "I do have a lot of food here, so you're welcome to share it with me. But if you want to go find a proper meal, don't let me stop you. Sorry." 

"Do I look like the kind of person who regularly eats out at a restaurant? I'm happy with a packet of crisps if that's what's on offer. I don't want to deprive you of your lunch though."

"You won't." 

David looked around at their surroundings. 

"Perhaps we could just sit on these steps and have a picnic?" 

"Perfetto."

"Do you always just sprinkle Italian into everything?" 

"Only in Italy. I'm trying to blend in with the locals." 

David opened up his backpack and took out some ciabatta with cheese, a big packet of crisps and an apple. "We went to the supermarket yesterday, so I'm fairly well prepared. It might not be authentic Italian cuisine, but it’s yours if you want it." 

Matteo smiled and took the piece of ciabatta that David offered him. It was so good. He missed Italian bread _and_ Italian cheese so much when he was at home. 

Halfway through his slice Matteo made an excited noise. "Mmph! Juh-m-po."

"Huh?" 

"Gelato!"

"Gelato?"

"Gelato. We're getting gelato after this. Since I'm depriving you of half your lunch." 

"Well. That's a plan I won't say no to." 

David caught his eye and smiled, and suddenly Matteo felt there was some kind of perfect explosion going on, because he was sitting on the steps outside a church in Rome, and a cute boy was looking at him happily, and they were smiling and there was sunshine and they were going to get _gelato._

Matteo wasn't sure what to say so he just grinned back, held David's gaze for as long as he dared, then took another slice of ciabatta. 

*** 

When they’d finished the last of the crisps the two boys got up and started wandering, reasoning that, sooner or later, they’d stumble on a gelateria. Matteo’s summers in Italy as a gelato-loving kid told him that blindly wandering was often the best method. 

David gave a euro to a woman standing on the edge of Piazza Navona singing covers of classic pop songs. Matteo ran at the flock of pigeons that made up most of her audience, scattering them in a squawking mess. David laughed like he couldn’t help it. Matteo tossed one of his own euros into the woman’s guitar case to make up for disbanding her audience. 

They walked down a street on the other side of the piazza and found a gelateria soon enough. There was nothing in the world like a real Italian gelateria: all the colours of ice cream neatly lined up, all the combinations of chocolate and nuts and fruits and caramel, the shining metal counters that backed directly onto the street, the shade of the white awning. 

"What are you thinking?" Matteo asked. 

"I think maybe the _nocciola_. That's hazelnut, right?" 

Matteo smiled at David's pronunciation, almost perfect but not quite. "Yep." 

"And I think I'll get the _stracciatella_ one with it." David managed that pronunciation a little less well. "What are you having?" 

"Same as always," Matteo said. "I'm just going to pick the most chocolatey ones." 

A smiley man came up behind the counter to take their orders. Matteo, with his fluent Italian, took the lead, and managed to pay for both of them before David had the chance to work out what was happening. It was fun being bilingual sometimes. 

Then they took their ice cream and walked back to the piazza. 

"How long have you been at uni?" Matteo asked. "If you _are_ at uni, I mean."

"I'm in my first year. Why?" 

Matteo shrugged. "I was curious. I'm on a gap year right now. I was meant to have figured out what I want to do with my life, but I haven't quite managed that yet." 

"That's okay though." 

"Imagining the future is difficult. Or at least knowing what I want that to be." 

David nodded. 

"I did apply to uni for next year though," Matteo said. "And I got a place." 

"Yeah? What are you thinking of studying?" 

"Sociology. Hopefully." 

David smiled. "That's cool." 

The pigeons were back, now in a crowd by the fountain at the centre of the piazza. There were a lot of tourists around, but Matteo found he didn't mind too much. 

"Mmm. This is so good," David said, gesturing with his gelato. 

"Right?" 

"Thank you. You didn't have to pay for it." 

"I ate half your lunch. It was only fair." 

David shook his head but accepted it. 

There was peace for a while as they ate, watching the kids by the fountain and the tourists taking selfies. "I'm very happy," David said. 

Matteo looked up at him. "Me too." 

"I'm very happy to have met you." 

Matteo wasn't sure what to say to that, so he smiled brightly and then hid his face behind his giant pile of ice cream.

When their gelato was finally all gone, David looked at his phone. "It's nearly 3. What are your plans for the rest of the day?" 

Matteo took his own phone out of his pocket, which he'd had on silent since the church, mostly so he could avoid thinking about the texts he'd sent to his mother for a bit. There was still no reply from her, but --

"Oh shit." 

There were a bunch of messages on his friends' group chat, several texts from Jonas, and a missed call. As he sat there wondering where to begin, his phone lit up with another call, from Carlos this time. 

He answered cautiously. "Hey?" 

"Matteo!" 

"Yeah?" 

"Where the hell are you? We were so worried!" 

"Oh. I went out." 

There was an exasperated noise on the other end of the phone. "Oh man. Dude. You went out with the _only set of keys_ to this apartment." 

Matteo stood. "Oh. _Oh_. Shit." 

Carlos laughed, in a sort of irritated-yet-fond way. "Yeah man. Shit." 

"I'll come back now." 

"Yeah, I think that's best. There's only so much to do outside this door."

"Sorry."

"Chill, it's okay. Just get your ass over here." 

The call ended. Matteo looked back at David, who seemed to have guessed what was going on, or at least the important point of their imminent separation. 

Before he could say anything else - before he could apologise, or say goodbye, before even thinking about what he was doing, it seemed, though he knew that wasn't quite true - Matteo opened his mouth and said, "Can I have your number?" 

David smiled wide. "Yeah, okay." 

He handed over his phone and David carefully tapped in his number. 

There was another little _what do we do now_ kind of silence, the specific kind that comes when saying goodbye to someone and realising that you might have to acknowledge that there's something unspoken and wonderful going on and you'd really rather like it to continue.

"I hope I can see you again," Matteo finally said. 

"Definitely."

"Thank you for a lovely day."

"Thank _you,_ Matteo."

Matteo's name really _did_ feel lovely when it was David who was saying it. 

"Ciao," Matteo said, and he turned to leave.

* * *

Matteo scrolled back through the group chat during the bus ride back. He maybe _should've_ given his friends some warning he'd gone out, but he hadn't expected them to be back this early, and he definitely hadn't expected to be out as long as he had been.

 _we're gonna head back now_ , Abdi had written 45 minutes ago. 

_Miss you luigi_ 😘, Jonas had added. 

Matteo scrambled off when the bus reached his stop, navigating back to the apartment through a mixture of memory and googling. When he turned the final street he found the boys were chilling in the sunshine outside the apartment block, leaning against the wall. 

"Matteooo!!" Carlos cried out. "Here he is." When Matteo crossed the street and reached them Carlos gave him a friendly shake. 

"How's your head?" 

"My head?" 

Jonas raised his eyebrows. "Your headache, Luigi." 

"Oh! Better, thanks. That's why I went out."

Abdi _hmmed_ suspiciously.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise about the keys." 

"It's okay. You do have them, right?" 

"Yep." Matteo pulled them from his pocket. 

They went inside the building and climbed the stairs up to the apartment. There was a distinct air of awkwardness in Matteo's movements. He knew he wouldn't be able to dodge his friends' questions for long. 

Once inside Abdi launched himself onto the sofa, his new favourite place, it seemed. Matteo sat down on the chair next to it. "How was your day?" he asked. 

"Really great!" said Carlos. "We went to the Pantheon and that famous fountain." 

"Fontana di Trevi?" 

"Yeah!" 

"And we got gelato," Abdi added. "We missed you." 

Matteo looked down.

"I got gelato too." 

"You went out to get gelato?" 

"Seems valid to me," Carlos said. 

"No. I mean, I didn't go out with the _intention_ of getting gelato." 

"Uh-huh."

"The gelato was good though." 

He went quiet. The boys calmed slightly, waiting. For all their dumbassery, they were good at sensing when Matteo had something to say that he needed a bit of help with. Particularly after last year, when everything was falling apart around his abi and his parents and he finally realised he'd been covering things up for too long. If he'd managed to come out to them, he could tell them he was getting a crush. Because that was what this was - he couldn't deny that, not to himself at the very least. 

"So where did you go?" Jonas asked, because he could tell some prompting was needed.

"I went to a church."

"Oh." 

"A church called San Luigi." 

"Wait, really? There's a fucking church called _San Luigi_?" 

"Yup. And it has some famous artwork in it. Depicting _San Matteo._ " 

Jonas, predictably, flipped his shit. "Diggi! Are you serious? That's mad. You're like a double saint."

"I wouldn't have pegged you down as any kind of saint, let alone a _double_ saint," said Abdi. "I'm sure the bible probably condemns smoking weed." 

"Nah," said Carlos. "Jesus was totally a stoner." 

Matteo rolled his eyes.

"So you went to go see this church? That's cool." 

"What is it with you and art lately? First the gallery, now this. I never thought you were the Renaissance type." 

"The Renaissance _was_ pretty gay," Matteo said. Abdi laughed. 

Matteo hesitated again, then said, "I actually went to a palace first, to see some statues." 

"Okay, I'm losing you here. You actually _are_ into art and the Renaissance and all that shit?"

"Nah, not really." 

They waited. 

"I wasn't on my own." 

Jonas flipped his shit even more enthusiastically. "Dude. Luigi. Matteo. _Explain_."

"Oh my god, have you found some brooding artist type to run away with through the streets of Rome?" 

"He's become an artist's model." 

"Or he's time travelled to become the apprentice of a Renaissance painter." 

"Oh! No!" Jonas cried. "The guy! It's the guy!" 

Matteo hid his face in his hand. 

"What guy?" Carlos demanded. 

"The art student! From the Borghese gallery! _That's_ why he wanted to visit the National Gallery yesterday! He knew _the guy_ was gonna be there!" 

Abdi gasped dramatically. "Matteo, you sneaky little shit! Is this true?"

Matteo groaned, but he was also kind of happy. "Maybe."

"And you met up again today… oh my god."

"They got gelato!"

"They got _gelato._ " 

"Diggi," Carlos said, taking Matteo's arm very seriously, and looking him sternly in the eye. "I want you to forget any exasperated words spoken when we found out you locked us out. None of it matters any more. This is the best thing that's ever happened, and I will gladly give countless more hours standing on the pavement if it means you get your chance with your fancy artist soulmate."

Matteo dived forward and hid his face in the arm of the chair. "Oh god. Why did I tell you this?" 

"Because we're your best friends, and we're gonna get you this guy whether you like it or not. Have you kissed yet?"

Matteo sat up. "No!! We only met two days ago!" 

"But we're on limited time here, brudi. We've got to work out our plan more rapidly than normal." 

"There is not going to be any _our_ _plan_. Also, he lives in Berlin." 

Abdi got up from the sofa, he was so excited. "He _lives in Berlin_?"

"Soulmates."

"Holy shit."

"This was fate."

“What’s his name?” 

“Yeah, what’s his name?” 

Matteo sighed. “David.”

“ _David_.”

Matteo looked up at his tiny army of excited friends, grinning and supportive and raring to go. "What do I do now?"

"Did you get his number at least?" 

Matteo nodded. 

"That's my boy!" Jonas said. "Okay, diggi, you're going to invite him somewhere, and it is _not_ going to be an art gallery. I'm sorry, but there's only so many statues of naked people I for one can take."

"You're not even going to be there!" 

"Excuse me, I want to meet this guy." 

"You already have!" 

" _We_ want to meet this guy," said Abdi. 

Matteo face planted the chair arm again, then peeked upwards through his folded arms. "We were all planning to go to the Colosseum tomorrow, and I want to do that. I don't get to spend that much time with you all lately, and I feel bad that I keep skipping our stuff together now we're finally on holiday.”

“That’s fair, Matteo, but you should also pursue this. Really.”

Matteo nodded. He picked up his phone. 

“Maybe I could invite him to hang out with us tomorrow evening. For drinks or whatever.” 

“You’re not meant to be hanging out with us! Take him on a date!”

“But you just said you want to meet him!” 

“I want to meet him _after_ you’ve been on a date.” 

Matteo sighed. “I can’t ask him to dinner. I’m not ready for that. It’s so incredibly unlikely that he likes me back.” 

Jonas frowned. “Okay, no worries, then. Invite him to join us for drinks at the apartment. We’ll be good, I promise.” 

Matteo nodded and looked back at his phone. He smiled. There was the number, and above it was written “David (art gallery guy) :)” 

“You got this.” 

_To_ **David (art gallery guy) :)** : _hey, this is Matteo. would you like to come for drinks/snacks/chill at my airbnb with my friends tomorrow evening? They’re chaotic but they’re nice :)_

Matteo pressed send, got up and dropped his phone onto the coffee table without waiting for a reply, then sat back down again. His nerves were all jangly. 

“Proud of you, dude,” Carlos said. 

“Now tell us all about your day. Tell us all about David. We need _details_ , Matteo.” 

Matteo sighed and rolled his eyes. He’d started an interrogation he could not escape now. 

In his heart of hearts, though, he didn't really mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, we begin the obligatory amateur art nerd references to Caravaggio. There will be more to come (it's his fault for painting so many pictures of people called Matteo). I’m pretty sure Caravaggio is technically Baroque rather than Renaissance, but it’s close enough that I don’t really mind about the specifics. Not only is there really a trio of paintings of San Matteo in the church of San Luigi dei Francesi, you want to know what Caravaggio’s first name was? Michelangelo. I’m not shitting you. 
> 
> [Here's the courtyard of Palazzo Altemps.](https://images.app.goo.gl/1qB9vCy3QXYszXGv9)
> 
> [Here's the church.](https://images.app.goo.gl/5qM6xxAXx6Q7i3LV7) Someone please take me there. [Here’s the alcove with the three Caravaggios.](https://images.app.goo.gl/1C81DNnFemD3y1459)
> 
> [Here’s Vocazione di San Matteo in particular.](https://images.app.goo.gl/zZ1pZpPHa9n2vJQ39) I chose this as the title for the second chapter before I even thought of them visiting the church together (frankly Caravaggio is responsible for like. 90% of the plot of this fic lol oops). It depicts the Calling of Saint Matthew, who was a tax collector ie. not a popular bloke, but Jesus finds him and asks him to follow him and, what do you know, he does. I’m not gonna claim to have some kind of complex reasoning for the significance of this for this fic, especially because my bible knowledge is definitely limited, but the idea of meeting someone and inspiring them to go on a journey with you towards enlightenment seemed fitting for this stage of the boys’ journey towards getting to know each other. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope to update soon, but I have exams throughout next week so there will probably be quite a gap before I'm back.
> 
> Stay safe <3


	3. Adorazione dei Magi (The Adoration of the Magi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, here is a GIANT apology for how long it has taken for this chapter to appear. I know it's been ten million years. Frankly, a LOT has happened in the weeks since my last chapter was posted, and between exams and burnout and political chaos and everything else, working on something like this just hasn't been a priority or something I've felt up to. And then once I did get around to it, it has just taken ages to write, and I’m not sure why? In any case, I am hoping that this will be the longest you have to wait for an update from me, though I won’t make any promises on how long it will take me. Nonetheless, what I CAN promise is that I still LOVE writing this fic, even if it’s been a difficult one this time around. I have no plans to abandon it. Here is the third chapter at last, and I hope it brings some enjoyment to people.
> 
> Since it’s been a while and I am all too aware of how confusing it can be to come back to a fic after a big gap, here’s a recap if you don’t want to reread: in the first chapter tourist Matteo meets art student David in a gallery and then finds him again in a different gallery for a “lesson in art history” (aka flirting); in the previous chapter Matteo comes back from another day of flirting, art talks, ice cream and exploration with David and manages to admit to his friends where he’s been, prompting much enthusiasm on the part of Jonas, Abdi and Carlos, who convince him to text David with an invitation to drinks at the airbnb the next night :) 
> 
> Since it has been, as stated, quite an eventful time since my last chapter and all these issues are ONGOING, a quick reminder that black lives STILL matter, trans rights are human rights, and we need to stay educated about all the global crises going on. I'm sending big hugs to everyone who is currently suffering in this shit ass world, but especially to black people, trans people, people with disabilities, and those going through economic hardships right now. Love to you all. 
> 
> I feel like I should dedicate this chapter to Tams, who will quickly understand why lmao love you <3
> 
> Enjoy! x

Matteo did not sleep well: first because he kept checking his phone for a reply from David, second because it was way too hot, third because Jonas just _would not keep still_. In fairness, neither could he. They'd both abandoned the duvet at the foot of the bed, opened the window a crack, and still the hot air crept in to lie heavy on every inch of the room.

Matteo fell asleep in the early hours. When he woke, Jonas was sitting up against the headboard, reading something on his phone. Matteo groaned and yawned. The pale sunlight through the open window suggested that it was way too early to be conscious. 

"What's the time?" 

"Around 6." 

" _Noooo._ Why am I awake?" 

"I can't tell you that, brudi." 

"Why are _you_ awake?" 

"Not built for Italian summers." 

"Ugh. Me neither. Where's that 50% of my genetics when I need it?" Matteo reached over for his phone. 6:07am. No text back from David. "Fuck." He sank back into the pillow. 

After a little while contemplating the ceiling he looked over at Jonas. "What are you reading?"

"An article. About the new power plant. Datteln 4." 

Matteo sighed and turned back into his pillow. "Isn't it a bit early for those sorts of topics?" 

"It's important." 

"You're talking to the guy whose idea it was to join Fridays For Future. I know it's important, just not at 6am." 

Matteo ran his hands through his hair and scrubbed at his eyes. He actually really liked the world in this sort of lighting: the pale grey-yellow of a summer morning in a room that wasn't really illuminated, but was light enough that he could see it perfectly anyway. Waking up beside Jonas only added to that _teenage summer sleepover_ feeling, though sort of reinvented, because the emotions that came with waking up beside _Jonas_ were different now to those he might have felt two years ago. 

"It's been a while," he said out loud, only half intentionally.

"Huh?" 

"It's been a while since we've had a Jonas-Luigi sleepover." 

Jonas yawned. "You're right. Miss my handsome presence in your bed?" 

Matteo rolled his eyes. "Nah." He paused. "I'm glad you don't care though." 

"Care about what?" 

"That you know I'm gay now. You never know what habits toxic masculinity might have murdered after that confession." 

Jonas smiled. "I'm holding out against the murderer, don't you worry." He leaned over to give Matteo’s hair a ruffle and was met with a second eye roll.

Matteo missed Jonas a lot, now that school was over. He was used to having an existence that was sort of lonely, afloat and unfixed to anyone else, but Jonas had always been a point to orientate himself around. Now that they were both on gap years, even this point was often out of reach. Matteo wasn’t lying, though, when he said he didn’t really miss sharing a bed with Jonas, and not just because he’d managed (with a good deal of effort) to push past his crush. The _teenage summer sleepover_ feeling was also woven into _escape from home_ feelings and _scared_ feelings and _longing_ feelings. Perhaps reinventing it was exactly what he needed to do. 

He turned back over and shut his eyes, willing his body to sleep some more, but he had mostly accepted that it wouldn’t happen. 

He scrunched his eyes tighter together and, at that exact moment, heard his phone vibrate on the bedside table. A text notification. That was that, as far as his attempts for more sleep went. 

He grabbed his phone and opened it. 

**David (art gallery guy) :)** : _hey Matteo. I would love to!_

Matteo leaned away from Jonas to hide his grin. 

He clicked on the box to start typing, then hesitated. Did he send something unremarkable about the arrangements for the evening, or did he make something out of the fact that it was 6:15am and he was awake in the Eternal City and so was this boy on the other end of his phone? 

Another text came through as he was trying to work out what to say.

 **David (art gallery guy) :)** : _Is it okay if I bring one of my friends? She’ll be on her own tonight otherwise_

Then immediately again: 

**David (art gallery guy) :)** : _I will happily contribute to snacks and drinks to account for the extra guests?_

Well shit. _Don’t overthink, Matteo. He said “friend”._

Matteo was definitely overthinking.

 **Matteo** : _va bene_

 **Matteo:** _and don’t worry about food! Unless you have any more of that amazing ciabatta, in which case, please do contribute_

 **David:** _You’re also awake at this ungodly hour?_

Matteo smiled.

 **Matteo** : _Yup. Why are you awake?_

 **David** : _The people in the apartment next door just set off to go to Florence very noisily_ 🙄

 **David** : _you?_

 **Matteo** : _it’s hot, and i’m only 50% Italian_

 **David** : 😂😂😂

 **David** : _I’m sorry your genetics have betrayed you_

 **Matteo** : _Yup,_ _it’s all my mom’s fault_

There was a pause before the next reply. Matteo watched the three dots and tried to ignore the butterfly feeling that seemed to be spreading through his core. 

**David** : _sorry, Leonie is shouting something about breakfast pancakes at me so I think I need to go, but maybe could you let me know when/where we’re meeting once you know?_

 **Matteo** : _yeah of course_

 **Matteo** : _enjoy!_

Matteo dropped his phone down onto the bed and scrubbed his hands over his face, a habit he wasn’t fully conscious of. 

“All good?” Jonas asked. 

“David replied.” 

“Oh shit! What did he say?” 

"He said yes, but he asked if he could bring a female friend." 

"Really? He asked if he could bring a _female friend?_ Is this the 19th century?" 

Matteo laughed and punched Jonas's shoulder lightly. "Oh my god, no. He asked if he could bring a _friend_ , who he then made clear is _female_. Adequate wording for you?" 

"Perfect,” Jonas said, then added, “a female friend is still a friend. Doesn’t have to be a girlfriend. Isn’t it a bit heteronormative of you to be worried about that?” 

Matteo scowled. “It’s not really that she’s female, it’s that she’s _someone_.”

“Right.”

“He said he’s staying with two girls, but he only talked about bringing one of them. And then he went off to have pancakes with someone called Leonie, who may or may not be the same person.” 

Jonas sighed. "Brudi, it could be anything. Try not to stress over it too much. Leave your analysis for after you've met this girl." 

Matteo nodded. 

"Here," Jonas said, "we should probably accept that we won't get any more sleep today, so let's watch something while we wait for the others to get up. You're right, it's a bit early for Datteln 4." 

Matteo smiled. "Okay." 

"Youtube? Netflix? Cartoons?" 

"Whatever. I really don't mind." 

Jonas leant over to pick up his laptop from beside the bed. They arranged the pillows in the middle, and Matteo scooched up so he would be able to see the screen. He was grateful for the comfortable familiarity. He hadn't known how much he missed it.

***

When it reached 8am, Matteo and Jonas got bored of scrolling youtube and watching random TED talks, so Jonas wandered into the next-door room to persuade Abdi and Carlos to make a move out of bed. Matteo heard them complaining through the open bedroom door. 

He reached over to look again at his phone. Nothing more from **David (art gallery guy) :)**. 

He moved Jonas' abandoned laptop out of the way and got out of bed, then sorted through his suitcase for something to wear that was appropriate in the heat. He definitely hadn't brought enough lightweight clothing, so he'd have to do a fair amount of repetitive wearing. Normally he wouldn't think twice about that, especially on holiday, but the existence of David in this holiday was making him a little more conscious than normal. Not conscious enough to _really_ care, though. He'd read an article about how washing clothes too much was bad for the environment, which was an excellent excuse for the repetitive wearing he'd do anyway. 

He picked out his single pair of shorts and a striped shirt. He was happy with that. 

Jonas appeared at the door. "They're gonna get up. Eventually. I'm going to make some breakfast if you want some." 

Matteo nodded and followed him out. He really needed a coffee. 

Half an hour later the four boys left the apartment to catch a bus to the Colosseum. Abdi and Carlos's excitement was unironic this time. Matteo had been inside the Colosseum once before, when he was about 8 years old, but he couldn't remember much beyond a basic impression of lots of tourists, lots of stone and a really huge blue sky. 

The crowd outside the amphitheatre was less of an ordered queue and more a big horde of people milling around aimlessly. Jonas, as marginally the most organised of the group, sorted the tickets. 

Matteo was actually looking forward to this visit. The Colosseum was this looming shape over his impressions of the city. He had so many memories of driving past it as a kid and being both enthralled and intimidated, pressing his head up to the window of the bus or car he was in, contorting his neck so that he could try to see how tall it was as the road moved around it in a slow circle. This trip was like debunking the mystery. Even when he had gone inside as a kid, he had been so young that he couldn't see over the interior wall without his dad lifting him up, though he'd loved listening to his mom tell him about the Romans. The Colosseum was objectively really cool. 

The four of them stuck together as a group once they entered, wandering through the shadowy space between the inner and outer walls, grateful for the shelter from the heat. There was an exhibition in this interior space filled with statues behind glass, which Matteo looked at with perhaps more attention than he would have done before meeting David. Abdi kept dragging the rest of them away to pose between archways for stupid instagram photos. 

The Colosseum was built like a maze: big stone steps up and down to different levels, interior arches, exterior arches, lots of concentric circles. Jonas led the way out into the sunshine of the path overlooking the main arena, which ran all the way around the amphitheatre. 

"Woah," Carlos said. Matteo agreed with that assessment.

The construction didn't seem any less giant than it had when he was a kid, but it was more tangible now. Abdi orchestrated yet more group selfies, but Matteo didn't mind. It was good to be with his friends. It was an incredible view, and there again was that big blue sky over the open heart of the arena. The sunshine was strong and fierce and wonderful.

Once they’d explored the Colosseum they found a pizzeria and got a table outside for lunch. Matteo knew his friends were all capable of talking to the waiters in English, but still they made him use his Italian instead, though he didn’t particularly mind - it wasn’t often that he got to use his second language, and it was particularly good to have the chance to use it for someone other than his dad. 

Once they’d got their pizza - Carlos and Jonas something adventurous with mushrooms, Abdi a mound of chicken and vegetables, him a Margherita because unlike his friends, he had taste - Carlos turned to him. “So, is art gallery guy coming over tonight?” 

“Yeah.” 

Abdi made an excited noise around his mouthful of pizza. “That’s great!” 

“I still need to text him the address,” Matteo said. “What time should I say? 8pm?” 

Jonas shrugged. “Sure, sounds good.” 

If he was being honest, Matteo felt like he needed the confirmation of a place and a time to really feel like David was actually going to come. He took his phone out and sent a text along with the airbnb address. He hadn’t even finished his pizza when his phone buzzed on the table. 

**David (art gallery guy) :)** : _That’s actually not far from where I’m staying!_

 **David (art gallery guy) :)** : _We’ll be there, thank you. See you later :)_

Matteo took a big bite of pizza to hide his smile, but didn’t quite manage it. 

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, the four of them wandering and exploring the monuments near the Colosseum, posing for ever more dumb group photos. 

After getting the bus back to their apartment, Matteo left again to visit the grocery store with Abdi so they could stock up on snacks and drinks. Abdi spent most of the time picking out strange items and interrogating Matteo on them, as though speaking Italian meant he had a working knowledge of all the weird snacks on the shelves. They were both firm believers that grocery shopping in another country was an underrated tourist experience. 

With a few bags filled up with beer and crisps and biscuits - and an entire ready-made tiramisu, which Abdi insisted on buying - they returned to the apartment and hauled their goods up the stairs, Matteo silently praying that their flimsy plastic carrier bags wouldn’t break. 

Carlos greeted them at the door. _"Bentornati, ragazzi!"_

“Where did you learn that?” Matteo asked with a bemused smile. “Somehow your pronunciation is actually quite good.” 

Carlos scoffed. “I’m a language maestro. Google taught me.” 

Matteo raised his eyebrows then made his way into the kitchen with a shake of his head. 

“Coffee?” Jonas offered, in the kitchen. 

Matteo nodded. 

Abdi had followed him in and was taking their groceries out of the bags. Jonas raised his eyebrows at the tiramisu he took out and put away in the fridge. “Is there a reason you bought an actual dessert?” 

“Why wouldn’t we?” Abdi replied. “It’s _tiramisu_.” 

Jonas shrugged. “I won’t argue with that.” 

“Did I hear you say tiramisu?” Carlos said, appearing at the door. “ _Excellent._ ” 

“See?” Abdi said. 

Matteo looked at his phone. It was barely half 6. “What do we do until they get here?” 

“Cook something?” Jonas suggested. "I know we have snacks, but I'd quite like an actual meal in the meantime." 

“Can we make pizza?” Carlos asked. 

“Dude,” Matteo said, “we already _had_ pizza.” 

“We should make some pasta together. Pasta alla Luigi, right?” 

Matteo took the coffee Jonas handed him. “It’s only pasta alla Luigi if _I_ make it. If it’s you lot making it it becomes pasta alla dumbass.” 

Jonas clapped his hands together sternly. “Well then, let’s make pasta alla dumbass.” 

The pasta-making process was chaotic - having four people making it definitely hindered more than helped the process - but it was fun. Jonas shoved a load of weird cheese in it, which Carlos complained about, but the final product was pretty good. 

They spooned it out onto mismatched plates they found in the kitchen cupboard and sat on the sofa together eating. Matteo tried to let his friends’ antics and silly conversations distract him from thinking about David coming over later. 

“Should we save the tiramisu for when our guests get here?” 

“Probably. Hey, Matteo, ask David if he likes tiramisu.” 

“I’m not texting David to ask if he likes tiramisu!” 

“I think you should.” 

Matteo rolled his eyes. “We can ask him when he gets here.” 

Carlos brought the beers into the lounge area and handed one to each of them. “We may as well start.”

Abdi whooped and reached for the bottle opener. 

It felt like no time at all before Matteo's phone vibrated with a message from David saying he was on his way. It felt like even less time before a second text saying they were in the street - _at least, I think this is the right street_ , David had written. 

Matteo took a swig of beer and stood up. Jonas looked at him and raised his eyebrows. "Alright?" 

"Yeah. They're here. I'm going to go let them in." 

Jonas grinned widely. “You got this, diggi.” 

Matteo descended to the building’s street entrance. When he opened the front door, David drew his eyes immediately, standing just a little way down the street. Next to him was a girl with long brown hair. He greeted them both, and David turned to him with a big smile. 

“Hi!” he said, then added, “This is my friend Leonie.” 

Leonie smiled and waved hello. “Nice to meet you.” 

Matteo tried to focus on greeting her rather than on noticing how good David looked in his black and white patterned shirt (his attempt didn't fully work). He settled on an awkward grin, then held open the door for them to enter the building. He hadn't taken a key, so when he reached the landing outside their apartment he had to knock loudly several times before Jonas opened the door. 

"Hey!" Jonas said, rather enthusiastically. 

David and Leonie followed Matteo inside, and he did a round of introductions. "This is Jonas, Abdi and Carlos." 

"Hi," David said. "Thank you for inviting me. I know it's a bit of a strange situation."

"Not at all!" Jonas said. "We love making spontaneous holiday friends." 

David smiled. Carlos took out a beer for each of the new arrivals. "Come sit down! Drink! Be merry!"

Leonie laughed and took the beer she was offered, then perched awkwardly on the sofa. "Thanks. How long have you guys been in the city?" 

"Not long," Abdi said. "Only a few days so far, but it's been brilliant." 

Matteo and David were still standing by the entrance. David turned to him. "Um. Do I need to take my shoes off?" 

"Uh. I don't think so. Our host is chill about that. But you can, if you want." 

"Okay," David said with another awkward smile, then shrugged and slipped off his trainers. 

Matteo went to sit down where he'd been before, where the beer he'd previously opened lay waiting for his return, when he realised this meant he would be sandwiched between Leonie and the only remaining space where David could sit. He hovered for a moment, then saw David approaching behind him, panicked, and sat right down beside Leonie after all. She turned from her conversation with Abdi to smile at him. David sat down on his other side, and Matteo tried not to be too aware of this fact. He avoided eye contact with Carlos, who he could tell was trying to smirk at him from the armchair opposite. 

"Matteo said you're a fancy art student," Carlos said, ignoring Matteo's pointed looks. 

"I did _not_ say that," Matteo protested.

David laughed. “It’s kind of true, I guess. But it depends how you define “fancy”. I don’t think I’m terribly proficient.” 

Matteo frowned, as did Leonie. “Shut up,” she said. “You’re great.” 

Matteo’s tummy did an anxious flip. 

“Are you also an art student?” Jonas asked Leonie, who shook her head. 

“I do theatre, with Sara, our other friend. Though she’s more into acting and singing and performing, and I’m more into management and directing and stuff.” 

Jonas carried on chatting to Leonie, while Abdi and Carlos started messing around pulling stupid faces at each other. 

“How are you?” David asked, and it took a second for Matteo’s brain to compute that it was him that David was addressing. 

“Oh. Good, thanks. We went to the Colosseum today.”

David nodded and took a sip of his drink. _When did it get so difficult to have a normal conversation?_ Matteo asked himself, and frantically searched for something to say. 

“What did you do today?” 

“I went sketching by the river. I drew the bridge and the buildings and the sky, it was really nice.” 

“Do you have your sketches with you?” 

“Ah, no, sorry. But I will show you sometime.” 

“I’d like that.” 

Matteo tried not to get too excited by the implication that there would _be_ a sometime, that there would _be_ a future. He would _make_ there be a sometime. He didn’t want to let this go. 

He figured it was time for another question, in the spirit of not letting things go, because this conversation was somehow the most difficult he’d shared with David, even more difficult than trying to explain why he’d visited a whole art gallery just to try to spot David again. 

“Have you always liked art?” he asked, and internally cringed. But David shrugged.

“I don’t know. I guess so. I think I’ve always had a lot of stuff I’ve struggled to express, and creativity is a way to do that. It’s not always been sketching, necessarily, but writing and drawing have always been things I like.” 

Matteo nodded. 

“What do you like doing?” David asked. 

Matteo laughed quietly, a dry and slightly sombre kind of laugh. “Not much. Or, not much creative or valuable stuff. Mostly I sit around and play video games.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I love video games.”

Matteo shrugged. David looked around at the rest of the people in the room - Jonas and Leonie now talking about university, Abdi listening to Carlos talk seriously about a call he’d had with his girlfriend and his panic about what souvenir to bring back for her. 

“I think you must be pretty great,” David said, “to have brought these people together. Your friends are really nice. I can see how you’d fit into this dynamic. Like the quiet, funny, calm little centre of it.” He took another sip of his beer then added, “Is that too much to say about someone I met two days ago? Probably.” 

Matteo looked down and smiled, then drank a bit to stall his answer. “No, that was nice of you to say. Thanks.” 

David looked back at him. It felt like a _moment_. But then Leonie leaned forward. “Hey, David, tell them about how you nearly broke the shower when we arrived at our airbnb.”

David laughed and looked at her fondly, and Matteo swiftly remembered why the conversation had started off so difficult. 

***

Matteo left after a few more minutes, with the excuse that he was going to the kitchen to fetch the tiramisu.

“Tiramisu?” David had asked with a laugh. 

“Ask Abdi,” he replied. 

When he escaped to the kitchen he leaned against the counter, in the little bit of standing space there was between the fridge and the cupboards. He checked his phone, for something to do. His mom still hadn’t texted back, which he figured he shouldn’t be too surprised about. She’d always been fairly sporadic with texting. 

He looked up when he heard a noise in the doorway - Jonas.

“What’s up, diggi? You good?” 

Matteo nodded. 

Jonas lowered his voice. “How’s it going?” he asked, emphasising _going_ significantly. 

Abdi and Carlos’s voices could still be clearly heard in the living room, which made this a dangerous place to be having this conversation. Matteo hesitated, then waved his phone at Jonas. Jonas frowned, watching Matteo type, then worked it out when his own phone buzzed. 

**Matteo** : _going fine except for the fact that i still don’t know about leonie_

Jonas nodded, then typed out a reply. 

**Jonas:** _I get that. But honestly, luigi, I don’t think she’s his girlfriend_

 **Matteo:** _Maybe not, but he probably likes her. I mean, i can tell she’s good looking, and i’m gay_

Jonas smiled at him. 

**Jonas:** _maybe you’d feel differently if you’d had my view of the way David kept looking at you_ 😏

Matteo rolled his eyes and shook his head, but his stomach did another backflip - he really needed to start working out the different meanings of all the complicated gymnastic routines his stomach was practising. _“What?”_ he mouthed at Jonas. 

Jonas simply shrugged and did an indiscernible smirky face, then shooed him out of the way so he could open the fridge door. 

“I believe you were looking for the tiramisu,” he said, and Matteo wanted to murder him.

***

When Jonas arrived with the tiramisu in the lounge, Matteo at his side with a stack of bowls, there was general excitement. 

“If this is how you feel about a readymade supermarket tiramisu,” Matteo said, “you really need to try my grandma’s homemade one.” But he handed Abdi a spoon to share out the seemingly precious dessert. They were short on bowls, so Matteo took his portion to eat straight from the plastic tray it came in. 

David grinned at him when Matteo handed across the bowls for him and Leonie. 

“I don’t know what the occasion is that prompted tiramisu, but I love it.” 

“There isn’t one. But I agree.” 

Matteo sat back down where he had been sitting previously, with another drink and his little tub of tiramisu, and surveyed the scene. Carlos was grinning. Abdi was shovelling down his dessert. Jonas was saying he would get out his ukulele once he'd finished eating, and give the guests a concert.

Probably what was making this evening so weird was that Matteo wasn't used to existing with his friends in such open acknowledgement of the fact he had a crush on a boy, and they didn't care. It was peaceful, existing like this, even when existing next to David was a giant ball of excitable stress inside his chest. He let himself relax, just a tiny bit.

There wasn't enough room on the tiny coffee table to dump all the plates and bowls when they were finished, so Matteo went to deposit the tiramisu packet in the bin in the kitchen. As he was standing there, his phone vibrated in his pocket. 

**Mom** : _That looks beautiful, darling! Thank you for sending me the photos! I'm so happy to see a message from you._

 **Mom** : _That church is amazing. Did you like it there?_

Matteo scrunched his hand up through his hair. 

"Hey." 

He looked up. It was David. Of course. 

"Just came to bring in my plate," David said. "You okay?" 

Matteo nodded. "Yeah. You?" 

"Good. Thank you." 

Matteo smiled. He was slipping his phone back and forth between his hands, which David clearly picked up on, because he added, "Sorry if I disturbed you, I'll leave you be." 

"Oh!" Matteo said. "No. You weren't disturbing. It was just my mom." 

David smiled a small, slightly confused smile. 

Matteo thought of Jonas and his smirking face emoji, of Carlos and his _wink-nudge_ looks, of Abdi and his enthusiasm for everything. He thought of bus rides and stupid group selfies and how much he trusted his friends. He thought of the mysteries of the Colosseum, how grand and expansive and intimidating it was, but how he was ready, now, this year at last, to look over those walls and explore those mysteries. 

He took heart from his friends. He pushed past his thoughts about Leonie. 

"I was thinking of having a joint," he said to David. "Out on the balcony. Do you want to join me?" 

David looked contemplative for a moment, but only a moment, then he walked further into the kitchen. "Okay." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh, a cliffhanger 👀 please don't kill me. 
> 
> This was a chapter largely about friendship, which is something I feel very strongly about, especially because I really love the druck boy squad. I chose the title "Adoration of the Magi" because imagining Jonas, Abdi and Carlos as the Three Wise Men was amusing to me lol (and we all knew they were going to love David, hence "adoration", I guess?). There's various different versions of the Adoration of the Magi in terms of Renaissance artwork, most notably [one by da Vinci](https://images.app.goo.gl/2MBfYtaKcYp5ryZN7) and [one by Botticelli](https://images.app.goo.gl/GZz2EpqKicSZS96J6). Both depict the Biblical Magi coming to see Jesus for the first time. 
> 
> I figure no one really needs a visual reference for the Colosseum, but if you've never been and don't know what it looks like on the inside and you're curious, [here's me saving you a google search](https://images.app.goo.gl/ooy3Qf8iRCBsHGp18).
> 
> Finally I want to say that I have been dropping in quite a few Italian words to the writing of this fic, and I don't really think they need translating for the most part because they're generally context-evident (and google translate is there if you're really curious). Having said that, do let me know if you want me to explain anything and, equally, let me know if I make any mistakes because while I speak Italian, I've only been studying it for a year. ("Bentornati ragazzi", which Carlos says on Abdi and Matteo's return, just means "welcome back, guys"). 
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter despite the wait. I am excited to get on with the next chapter, and I hope it won't take me quite so long, but we'll see. 
> 
> Stay safe, big hugs x


	4. San Matteo e l'Angelo (Saint Matthew and the Angel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exactly a year ago today I joined the druck open discord, and it changed my life in so many ridiculous ways. The fact that I'm posting this chapter today feels very perfect. 
> 
> This is an exciting chapter to be posting, so I really hope you enjoy <3

The balcony wasn't very long, but it was wide enough that Matteo could sit down, leaning against the wall. The stone at his back wasn't the most comfortable, but he sprawled his legs out in front of him and made do. David settled down right beside him. 

Matteo reached into the pocket of his shorts to find a joint. It was colder outside than he was prepared for - this night was cooler than the previous one - but not cold enough for him to bother with going back to fetch a hoodie. He would embrace the goose bumps for the sake of the dark summer sky and the smell of the city. He liked the open air. 

He lit up and inhaled, then offered the joint to David, who only hesitated for a second before taking it. Matteo was glad he hadn't had too much beer - he wanted to feel pleasantly floaty without losing himself. For a few minutes they simply sat in the dark and quiet, though it was neither completely dark nor completely quiet. The buzz of the city, with all its endless street lamps and cars, meant the world felt inescapably awake. 

David passed back the joint. Matteo turned to him. There was a smile-filled silence. 

When Matteo turned away again David said quietly, “This is the kind of moment where we’re meant to have a deep conversation.” 

“Hmm, yeah, probably. You’re an art student, you should be good at deep conversations.” 

“I should, shouldn’t I?” David laughed quietly. “Okay. Let me think of a deep question.” 

He paused, looking out at the street. It was a fairly narrow street, with the same tall buildings on both sides. Opposite them were more rooms and floors and little balconies just like theirs. There was a cafe on the corner, dark and silent at this time of night.

“Do you believe in fate?” David asked. 

Matteo couldn’t help himself: he snorted and grinned. “Yep, that’s exactly the level of art student deep shit I was after. You didn’t disappoint.” 

David smiled softly. Matteo passed back the joint, then said, “Yeah, I think so.” 

"You _do_ believe in fate?

"Well, do you?" 

David exhaled, and the smoke billowed out into the night. "I never have. But this week _has_ been quite fateful." 

"Yeah?" 

"Meeting the same stranger four days in a row." 

Matteo looked down. "I think that was less fate, more persistence." 

David smiled again. "Yeah. The joy of free will." 

Matteo was quiet. He wasn't sure what to say and he wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but he quite liked whatever direction it was taking. 

"What about soulmates?" David asked.

"Hell yeah, I believe in soulmates," Matteo said, and then he grinned, and suddenly they were laughing, disturbing the stillness of the street. 

"I like sitting out here," David eventually said, as Matteo passed over the joint again.

Matteo nodded. "I have a balcony in my room in Berlin. I think my roommates let me have it because they worked out I smoke too much."

"Do you live with Jonas and the others?" David asked, gesturing with his head back into the airbnb. 

"Nah. They still live with their parents." 

"But you don't?" 

Matteo shook his head. He couldn't work out if he wanted David to pry or not, so instead he asked, "How about you?" 

"I live with my sister," David said. Something about his body language was just a touch more guarded than it had been moments before. Matteo changed tack.

"What about Leonie?"

"What about her?" 

"Is she… I don't know. Is she your girlfriend, or anything?" 

David raised his eyebrows. "She is not."

"Oh." 

David grinned. "Actually, Leonie is pining after our other friend, Sara." 

_Oh_ , Matteo thought again, though he didn't say it out loud this time.

"Sara's the one who isn't here tonight?" he said instead.

"Yeah. There's a whole group of drama students here at the moment. They're working on some kind of Romeo and Juliet thing that they're putting on over the next few days. I've been wanting to come here for ages for the art, so I coordinated with their trip so I could stay with them." David paused. "So the girls are both working on this show together, but Sara is playing Juliet, and she arranged with the guy playing Romeo that they could do some last minute rehearsals together. Which is where she is tonight." 

"Ah. Shit." 

David shook his head. "Leonie has nothing to worry about, they just need to _talk_ to each other." 

"Hmm." 

There was another calm silence. They passed the joint back and forth a couple more times, then Matteo finally stubbed it out on the concrete floor of the balcony. 

"Do you have any family in Italy still?" David asked.

What a question that was. Matteo tended to talk about his Italian family just about _never_. 

He tapped his hands on his knees in a fidgety kind of way. "Yeah. Most of my dad's family lives in Tuscany, but I haven't seen them in a while. And my dad lives in Rome." 

"Oh. Wow." 

"My mom gave me his address before I left. Dunno if I'll visit him, though." 

David hummed in understanding. "Bad relationship?" 

Matteo laughed dryly. "Yeah. Well, didn't used to be especially bad between me and him, I don't think. But then he left my mom, and left _me_ with my mom, so." 

"I'm sorry to hear that." 

Matteo shrugged. 

"But you don't live with your mom anymore either?" 

"Mm, no," Matteo said. He hesitated. Was he really going to do this? Open up to a stranger he'd only just met? Why did David feel like the opposite of a stranger? 

"Things with my mama aren't easy," he said, and his words seemed to hover very softly around him, but David listened carefully. "I moved out last year. She has depression. It makes things hard. Why my dad left, I guess." 

"Oh." Maybe Matteo was imagining it, but it seemed like David scooted fractionally closer. 

"Yeah." Matteo shrugged again. 

David didn't really reply, but out of nowhere his knee, triangled up in front of him, shifted so it was pressed against Matteo's, and stayed there. Suddenly Matteo just wanted to keep opening up, which was a little terrifying.

"Things are kind of better with my mama now. She's doing better. But I still don't go back to her. I still don't visit. I still don't call the way I should. It's kind of like I can't forgive her, despite the fact that I never blamed her in the first place. It's kind of shitty." He sniffed. Part of him wished he still had his joint, but he didn't want to have another one. That was the rule. No more than one in a row. 

He wasn't sure what David would think of him if he knew the extent of how he'd acted a year before, so he just wouldn't go there. 

"You're not shitty," David said. "These things are hard." 

Matteo shrugged again. 

"Really, Matteo. I don't think you're shitty at all. You're great."

Matteo smiled at that one. And it wasn't planned, but he found himself leaning into David's side, face pressed into his shoulder. 

They fell into another soft silence. And somehow, this moment, cramped on a balcony in the hazy dark of a Roman side street, had all the detail and grandeur and depth of a Renaissance masterpiece. Matteo wished he was an artist with the power to capture the comfort of David's shoulder, the shadow of his eyelashes, and the soft curve of his smile. He took a mental photograph instead. 

"This isn't where I thought I'd be," he said.

"What do you mean?" David asked. 

"I didn't expect to be feeling like this, in Rome. In the place my dad fucked off to."

David didn't ask what "this" was, and Matteo loved that they didn't need words to explain it to each other. It was written in the air. 

Instead David just said, "I didn't expect to be feeling like this either." 

When Matteo slowly shifted his head, tipping his face up towards the sky and the heavens and most importantly towards David; when David turned so that his nose grazed first Matteo's forehead, then his nose; when their faces found each other and their lips met, it really felt as natural as breathing. An exhale into the night. The final brushstrokes blending together the different corners of the canvas. 

It was pretty damn wonderful. 

David's right hand moved so he was holding Matteo's face, pulling him closer, and Matteo felt like he was drowning in happy. He moved his own hand until he found David's left on the balcony floor, and David immediately opened his fingers so that Matteo could wind their hands together. And all the while, David was kissing him, and he was kissing David. _David was kissing him._ They had turned the night into magic. 

David pulled away just slightly and exhaled into a huge smile. Matteo just looked at him, wide-eyed and totally blissed out. He couldn't think of anything to say, and apparently neither could David, because after a few seconds of gazing they just leaned back towards each other in another kiss. 

Which is when Matteo's phone rang. 

He pulled back. "Jesus fucking Christ." He looked down at the screen. It was Abdi, of all people. 

"What the fuck does he want? We're in the same building!" 

"Maybe he forgot there's a balcony and thinks we disappeared." 

"Ugh," Matteo said, not bothering to answer. "Abdi can wait." 

David was silent for a second, then a mischievous smile spread across his face. "Want to get out of here?" 

Matteo was hit by a sudden wave of shyness, and just nodded, smiling. 

Then he had a thought. "What about Leonie? We can't just abandon her here." 

"Maybe we should go inside and actually communicate with our friends." 

"Hm, maybe," Matteo said, but he didn't move. David grinned. Matteo leaned up and pulled David's face back down into another kiss, and he felt David's smile lingering through it. 

"Okay," he finally said when they pulled apart. "Let's go inside." 

***

When Matteo stepped back into the doorway of the living area, his gaze immediately landed on the blonde girl sitting next to Leonie who he was pretty damn sure had not been there when he'd left. 

"Sara!" David said, which was enough to draw the gaze of every person in the room towards the two of them. 

"David!" 

"Luigi!" 

"Where the fuck have you been?" 

"On the balcony, you idiots," Matteo said. Abdi did a wide-eyed _ohhhhh_ face, and Jonas swatted at him. 

"Why are you here?" David said, looking at Sara, who was sitting right beside Leonie and seemed very at home on the bright green sofa already. 

"Our mini rehearsal ended, so I texted Leonie to see if you were still here. Marcus dropped me off, he has a hire car." 

Now that he was aware of it, Matteo noticed the very faint lines of a frown on Leonie's face on hearing the name _Marcus_. 

"So this is Matteo?" Sara added. Matteo shrugged and gave her a tiny smile of greeting. "Nice to meet you," she said, and he nodded. 

"Actually, since you're here now, Sara…" David began, "We were going to head out." 

"Huh? We're leaving already?" Leonie asked. 

"No," David said, and Matteo wished they didn't have to announce this while standing in a doorway together in front of everyone, but he equally didn't want to be fielding ten million worried phone calls from his friends while he tried to do… whatever it was they were going to do. 

"Me and Matteo are heading out," David finally said, and Jonas got a giant goofy grin on his face. This time it was Abdi who swatted at him. 

"So we can stay?" Sara asked. 

"Is that okay?" David replied.

"You're welcome to stay for however long you want," Jonas said, still battling a giant grin. 

Leonie shrugged, Carlos yelled, "Have fun!", and Matteo followed David swiftly from the room before he could die of embarrassment. 

David scrambled to find his phone, and then Matteo realised he probably needed a jacket from his room, and everything felt frantic and giggly in the best way. Soon he and David were outside the doorway to the apartment, and a strange sort of calm fell over them. 

"Where are we going?" 

David smiled his magical smile again. "I have a few ideas. Let's catch a bus." 

David pulled his phone from his pocket and looked up the local bus routes, then shut his phone off before Matteo could try to work out which direction they were headed. They walked the couple of streets towards the bus stop mostly in silence, a good kind of silence. In this residential area the streets were completely deserted. Every so often Matteo would catch David looking at him and smiling, and every so often David would catch him doing the same. 

Despite the darkness, the night felt very young and full of possibility. When they reached the bus stop, Matteo grinned up at David. "Are you taking me off for another lesson in art history?" 

"Maybe. Only this time the art is the city itself." 

"How come you know Rome so well? You're not the one who spent half his childhood holidays in Italy." 

"Well, I'll let you into a secret."

Matteo raised his eyebrows. "Okay." 

"I actually don't know Rome that well. I've just got a long, detailed list of places I want to visit, from too long spent on google dreaming of escape." 

Matteo frowned. There were different ways of saying the word _escape_. There was the way that meant "romantic summer escape". There was the way that meant "fun escape from the daily routine". The way David said it wasn't either of those things. 

"Why do you need to escape?" 

But David just shook his head, and Matteo understood that head shake too. It meant, quite firmly, _I don't want to talk about this_. 

"Don't you ever want to escape?" David finally said, voice quiet. 

He thought for a while. "I mean, yeah. I suppose I already did, when I moved out." 

David nodded. "But what about just - leaving everything behind, and just going? Running from the world, and its pressures, and its people? Going somewhere no one can find you." 

"I couldn't do that." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I would be alone." 

David's gaze softened. "You don't like being alone?" 

Matteo shook his head and looked away down the street. The bus appeared at the corner. "I hate being alone." 

He still wasn't looking at David, but suddenly he felt David take his hand and squeeze it tightly. And the magnetic pull of this night meant he couldn't resist looking back at David, smiling at him, and falling into his shoulder, just briefly, before the bus pulled up and they let go so they could board. 

And then, when they found their place on the very back row, only a few other people in the seats in front of them, David took his hand right back again. The bus set off, and Matteo burrowed into David's side. It seemed to be his new favourite place. 

David nudged him to get up after a fairly brief time on the bus. They got off at the Piazza della Repubblica. Matteo smiled when he saw where they were. He had hundreds of memories of this piazza: there was a constant stream of traffic circulating around the fountain at the centre, and all the way around the outside were buildings with the most incredible imposing facades. It was the most bizarrely beautiful roundabout he'd ever seen.

"This was always the most exciting place to tiny Matteo," he said to David. "When I was a kid I wanted nothing more than the go play in that fountain. My parents had to forcibly stop me from running into the road." 

"Will you be disappointed if I tell you we're just here for the metro, not to play in the fountain?" 

"I'll get over it," Matteo said, and grinned. "Pretty sure we'd get arrested if we tried going in that particular fountain, anyway." 

"We could always pretend to be recreating La Dolce Vita." 

At Matteo's blank look, David clarified, "Famous Italian movie. There's this iconic scene where the main actress wades right into a fountain."

Matteo looked about for the entrance to the metro. They were standing on the pavement around the edge of the piazza, between the grand buildings that bordered it and the road, which was still fairly busy despite how late it was getting. But before he could walk towards the metro entrance, he realised that David was actually hesitating behind him. He turned back and gave him a questioning look. Another mischievous smile slowly grew across David's face, then he pulled Matteo around so they were looking out into the road, towards the fountain in the middle. There were one or two people sitting around the edge of it, though disappointingly no movie stars dramatically wading in. David took his hand, then started walking in a circle parallel to the road until the side of the fountain facing them was completely free of people. Then he waited, watching the road, and Matteo was just about to lose patience. 

"What are we-- David!" He shrieked. 

David was running across the road to the fountain, pulling Matteo along with him. He didn't even have time to look at whether there were any cars, though he trusted David enough. They reached the little paved edge around the fountain, their own elaborately carved island amongst the traffic, gasping and laughing. 

"Are you fucking crazy?" Matteo asked. 

"Maybe," David replied, and then he took Matteo's face in both his hands and kissed him as breathlessly as they'd just run across the road. 

Matteo actually had to grab hold of David to stop from swooning. It was an impossible scene. Traffic was still flowing right beside them. The facades of the buildings that surrounded the piazza were illuminated and glittering. The fountain was quietly pulsing. And there he was, Matteo Florenzi, being kissed as though he were a movie star himself. Kissed at the centre of the most beautiful roundabout he'd ever seen. 

When they finally pulled back, the smile on David's face was blinding. They looked at each other happily, then David said, "Let's go catch a train." 

Matteo huffed a smile and shook his head, then stepped forward and hugged David tightly. And he kept his eyes wide open, looking at the moving lights and the clear water of the fountain and the old basilica beyond. He took a mental photograph again. He wanted to remember exactly how this felt, though he wasn't sure he could ever forget. 

Then he took David's hand again, ready to go find the metro.

When Matteo stepped onto the metro train this time, he didn't feel unmoored. He finally had someone to hold onto who _held him right back_. 

*** 

They stepped off the train at a station called _Spagna_. 

"Is this like Piazza di Spagna?" 

"You really know all the names of these piazzas, don't you?" 

Matteo shrugged. "Mama used to turn it into a game, learning all the Italian names together." 

"That's sweet." 

There weren't many people around in the station. They walked slowly up towards the exit, until finally David halted. 

"That's why I wanted to come to this metro station," he said, gesturing ahead in the tunnel. 

Of course this wasn't just practicality. Of course David had thought about this. Of course the walls in the tunnel ahead of them were covered in beautiful painted shapes. 

The far side of the wall, nearest the exit, had been painted in bright coloured stripes, but closer to them the bright white of the rest of the tunnel had been painted over it to look like a curtain. A kneeling boy, larger than any of the real people walking past, peeled back that layer of white, pulled aside the curtain, to reveal the colour behind it. And from those colours, painted birds flew towards them, bright blue and red and green and purple. 

Matteo stepped closer, trying to keep out of the way of people entering the station. He was a Berliner, so he could appreciate street art, though this was far from the best he'd ever seen. Compared to the masterpieces covering the buildings in his home city, this little stretch of curved underground walkway was nothing. But it was hopeful, and bright, and being here with David felt like it _meant_ something. It felt so inexplicably right. 

He took another mental photograph to add to his collection. When he turned back, he expected David to be looking intently at the art with the thoughtful, awed expression he always seemed to direct towards artwork. And his face was indeed wearing that expression, but he was barely looking at the artwork. He was looking at Matteo. 

Matteo's gaze locked onto David's, and his own view of the walls fell away. There was an indescribable surge of emotion in his gut. Finally he broke his gaze away, and they turned towards the exit. They wandered slowly past the mural, looking into all its layers and colours, while the people around them hurried blindly past on their way to catch their trains. 

David gestured with one of the tickets they'd bought at the other end of the metro line. "These tickets let us travel anywhere on public transport for the next hour and a half. So we need to make this the best hour and a half of our lives." 

Matteo secretly thought they'd already managed that, but he just smiled, because judging by the look on David's face, he knew too.

Outside, Piazza di Spagna was teaming with life as it always was. He wasn't the biggest fan of crowds, particularly at night, but he followed David through the square over towards the Spanish Steps that connected the Piazza di Spagna with another piazza above it. There were people milling around on the steps, but not as many as during the day. David started climbing up them, winding around the little clumps of people. There was an obelisk and a church at the top. Matteo wasn't thrilled about the amount of steps he needed to climb to get there, but he hoped the view would be worth it. 

David looked back at him as they climbed up the hill, and grinned down with an almost giddy look on his face. There were fewer and fewer people the higher they climbed. When they reached the church at the top, David pulled lightly on his hand to bring him around, and then they were looking out over the city. 

The view was _absolutely_ worth it. 

Matteo had seen Rome in the dark before - usually half asleep in the back of a car on the way to a hotel - but not intentionally like this. Not coming out to see the city at night just because it was beautiful. But it was so beautiful. 

"This city really is like art," he said softly to David.

He turned, and right there was another masterpiece, a boy-shaped masterpiece. Matteo was the one who leaned forward this time, reaching out to David like it was habitual. They kissed, softer this time, and then Matteo smirked as he pulled back.

"Welcome to David and Matteo's kissing tour of Rome."

He looked back out towards the city, the view over Piazza di Spagna and the rooftops and glittering streets. There were enough people here that they hadn't kissed for too long or too intensely, but now they leaned into each other's sides, and Matteo felt so wonderfully safe there. 

Then he said, "Now it's my turn to take you somewhere. A view even better than this one." 

"Is it a competition now?" 

Matteo grinned and nodded. 

"Okay," David said. "Whoever wins the 'most picturesque place to kiss' competition gets an extra kiss." 

"Is there not a slight flaw in that logic? That's automatically a shared prize." 

David had a very serious look on his face. "Okay, then, an extra kiss and a bonus prize." 

"So… if I win?" 

David thought for a second. "I could draw you?" 

Matteo felt warm all over, and smiled shyly. 

"And if you win?" he asked. "I don't have much to offer."

David frowned at that. "Yes, you do. Spending time with you is a prize in itself." 

Matteo sort of smiled and looked down. It was strange how David could make him feel so bold and so shy at the same time. Sometimes he just couldn't seem to find any words. 

David paused then said, "If I win, you could come with me to watch Sara in Romeo and Juliet tomorrow." 

Matteo raised his eyebrows at that. "Okay. Deal." 

David grinned again, and Matteo couldn't help grinning back. 

Then he turned and ran down the Spanish Steps before David could blink. He knew David would follow right after him anyway. 

*** 

Matteo had to check various routes and directions on his phone, then he led them back to the metro station, back past the colourful birds. They got off after only a few stops. 

The square they emerged onto was huge, bustling, and overlooked by an unmistakable monument: an enormous white building, complete with statues, fountains and Italian flags, artificially illuminated and incredibly beautiful. 

"Piazza Venezia!" David said out loud, looking around at the square, busy with tourists and traffic. They followed the road that looped around it, which took them towards the great white building, towering over the rest of the piazza. "I've always wanted to come here at night."

Matteo smirked at him. "Will you be disappointed if I tell you we're just here for the metro, not to explore Piazza Venezia?" 

"I'll get over it," David said, matching Matteo's mischievous look, and Matteo took that as his cue to grab David's hand and run towards the steps that led up to the monument. He didn't stop running even when he reached the steps themselves, going straight up them, hand in hand with David. Then he stopped at the top, out of breath, and didn't even wait to look out at the view before kissing David again. 

David leaned right into him. Matteo could taste the giddy happiness on his lips. This city was art, but when he was with David it could never be more than a background. The real masterpiece was David, and the feeling of being held by him, and the intricate beauty of kissing him.

Piazza Venezia was beautiful below them. Above them, the white columns and golden gates beyond the steps were imposing in a glorious kind of way. David leaned his forehead against Matteo's, and they breathed.

It was a perfect moment in a perfect place, but it wasn't the final destination on the kissing tour, so Matteo didn't linger too long before leading David back down the steps, past the statues and carved lions and little fountains, and around the side of the building. At the back was another set of steps - _what was it with Rome and ornamental steps?_ \- and Matteo took David's hand. 

"Which piazza does this lead to?" David asked. 

"Piazza del Campidoglio. Michelangelo designed it." 

David looked at him and started laughing as they climbed the steps.

"Hey!" Matteo said. "I can know things!" 

"It's not that," David said, still laughing. "When we met, you said you knew nothing about art." 

"Well, I don't. But…" 

"Yes?" David squeezed his hand. They were climbing the steps slowly this time, side by side. 

"This was my dad's favourite piazza. We came here every single time." 

"Oh." 

They both stopped on the steps at the same time. David turned to Matteo.

"The view is incredible from up at the top," Matteo said quietly. "And I think I'd like to make new memories here." 

David said nothing, just smiled a little, squeezed Matteo's hand again, and carried on walking. 

There were far fewer people in this square. The buildings were beautiful, and Matteo enjoyed watching David look around, enthralled, caught in wonder at being able to step through a Michelangelo masterpiece. The white walls and paved floor gleamed in the lights that shone constantly from the lamps around the piazza, a thousand times more wonderful in the darkness. Matteo had never seen the square after dark before.

David wandered in a small circle, then gravitated right back to Matteo. He pulled David over to the side of the piazza, to show him the very best part of it. 

From its spot on the hill, Piazza del Campidoglio had a perfect view over the Roman Forum: huge ghostly columns rising up into the night, lit up by artificial spotlights and glowing spookily. Up on their hill they were surrounded by glittering Renaissance facades, but they were looking straight down into the ruined heart of Ancient Rome. There were over a thousand years of history in their view, a thousand years of grandeur and decay, and there they were, a part of the glittering night, shining so brightly themselves. Their own story, painted over all the years of hurt.

They took in the view.

"You won," David said, and Matteo kissed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeff Buckley's version of Hallelujah came on my spotify as I finally wrote the first kiss in this chapter, and that was pretty damn wonderful in itself. Pretty sure that song is the exact vibe I didn't realise I was going for with this fic lmao
> 
> There's quite a few incredible places in this chapter, many of which I have had the joy to see myself, and often at night. Rome at night really is a masterpiece. Here's some photos, if you're curious about any of the highlights of David and Matteo's Kissing Tour of Rome: 
> 
> -[Piazza della Repubblica](https://images.app.goo.gl/v1kjMm9PnJiDBTLJ8)  
> -[Spagna metro street art](https://images.app.goo.gl/hhtvzeC7JrWECd877) (not 100% sure the art is still there, but I hope it is)  
> -[Piazza di Spagna/Spanish Steps](https://images.app.goo.gl/N6doEpH8GWZfHjqC8)  
> -[View from the top of the Spanish Steps](https://images.app.goo.gl/YmTK9UBgANLMURmn8)  
> -[Piazza Venezia](https://images.app.goo.gl/YhbtumxDYZC9CesK8) (the huge monument building is called the Vittoriano)  
> -[Piazza del Campidoglio](https://images.app.goo.gl/QxWfV4kE8qXMc8B29)  
> -[View of the Roman Forum](https://images.app.goo.gl/XocWt1iEn8bgKFUEA)
> 
> The chapter title is another Caravaggio, and there's actually several different versions of it. Technically, the one known as "Saint Matthew and the Angel" is the lost first version [(link here)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Matthew_and_the_Angel). A later version, the one that's up in the church of San Luigi, has the same Italian name, but is known in English as ["The Inspiration of Saint Matthew"](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Inspiration_of_Saint_Matthew), and it's probably my all time favourite Caravaggio painting.
> 
> I trust my choice of chapter title itself needs no explanation :) 
> 
> Until next time!  
> Cate x


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